Bulletproof
by magenta.revival
Summary: The way Jake Peralta saw it, there were two kinds of drunk...
1. Chapter 1

The way Jake Peralta saw it, there were two kinds of drunk. The first was fun drunk. Beach house drunk, cover story drunk, late night paperwork drunk…That was the easy kind. Fun drunk was warm chested. It was here. It was every detail. It was a puzzle, all fuzzed over with the promise that, for once, everyone around him was here too. Fun drunk was not so very different from the way Jake Peralta lived every day of his life.

Fun drunk often took place at a bar. It often took place with flushed faces, rising laughter. Above all else, fun drunk meant Jake was never, ever alone.

He, however, was here. A bulb had burned out of his lamp, and there was some kind of infomercial on the television. The radio was on, as was a police scanner in the corner. The room was far from quiet, but it was empty, save one police detective leaning against the edge of the couch and holding a bottle in his fingers.

Fun drunk Peralta drank neat whiskey he'd conned or bet or goaded someone into buying for him. But at home, Jake drank cheap vodka mixed with watermelon Kool Aid pouches. This was the Jake who, true to form, never quite grew up after years in high school of drinking alone and watching reruns of LA Law.

He was avoiding the matter at hand, which was sad drunk, or more accurately after five hours of restless sleep, sad hungover. He was avoiding his phone, which had not rung. He was avoiding the overdraft notice from a night at the Maple Drip Inn for Teddy.

He lived seventeen minutes from the subway station where he was meeting Santiago for a stakeout, theoretically in nineteen minutes. It dawned on him that showing up hungover was not only irresponsible and dangerous, it was also really, really dumb.

Then again that was sort of the point, right? He was the drunk, irresponsible jerk who stood her up. He was the lanky man-child with the Peter Pan complex. He was the bleary-eyed wunderkind who would never give up the adrenaline or the easy laugh.

At least, that's how Santiago saw it. For a moment, she had looked so closely that she had almost caught a glimpse of the Peralta who sat, sprawled on the floor for twenty more seconds. And, because he was not, in fact, bulletproof, he had run back into the comfortable cover of immaturity.

An alarm rang on his phone. The "Bad Boys" theme from COPS. It knifed his head, and he smiled slightly, despite wanting to scream more than anything.

Aspirin. Bagel. Sunglasses. Gatorade for the road. Smirk. Sex tape joke. Annnd sidearm. Shot of whiskey he'd gotten as a gift sometime.

She saw him, jogging on the edge of lateness from the subway station. His loping stride was crooked, but she couldn't make herself mind so much. Jake Peralta was bulletproof and smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

But Jake Peralta wasn't bulletproof. He was giddy and complicated and clever and distractible, but he would also learn that jokes and bets and alter egos could only carry you so far. That February, he would collar his arch nemesis, kiss…well a lot of people…, receive a medal of valor, and get Rosa to admit her true feelings for everyone in the precinct. But that didn't necessarily mean it was easy. And the thing he really wanted didn't come from a joke or a bet or a scheme. It came from a terrifying, awful thing that made him finally get honest with himself.

That February, Jake Peralta grew up a little bit.

February 6 had to be the best day of Jake Peralta's life. In fact, Diaz couldn't help but notice that he was skipping a bit as they pulled the taller man toward the car and he finished half-singing the man's Miranda rights. She would have smiled, except that she didn't really want to. She did, however, let him lead the way into the precinct.

"Ladies and gentleman, may I present to you the fearsome, fantastic, finally foiled (dramatic pause) Douglas Patrick Judy!" He looked expectantly at Boyle, who startled and grabbed a boombox from beneath his desk. The strains of "We are the Champions" wafted through the room as Rosa led a cooly confident Judy to an investigation room. She returned a minute later and whispered intently to Captain Holt, who spun to face Peralta and raised his voice.

"No. Absolutely not. We are not cutting deals with Doug Judy. Not this time. I want him booked and sent to prison where he belongs." Jake was practically levitating as he bounced on his toes.

He went back into the room with a confession statement. Judy sat, making soft eyes at Rosa, and spoke without turning toward Jake.

"Oh, I'll sign your papers Jake. But only if I can have a kiss" His sultry look could have melted her tennis shoes.

"What?" Rosa was flustered. "I mean…what?"

But Jake was faster. Fuzzy with excitement, he swooped down and planted a kiss on the center of Judy's lips.

Rosa laughed until Jake had finally had it. "Listen Diaz, I'm not ashamed to be so deeply in touch with my emotions. Sadly, we cannot all be mindless robots like yourself and Captain Holt. I kissed Doug Judy, and I'd do it again. In fact…" his face drew into the devious smirk that set off a red flag in Rosa's brain "I will kiss every detective in this precinct by the end of the month and not think twice about it?"

"That sounds like a bet, Peralta"

"Fine by me"

"Terms?"

"You win, and I'll stop prank calling Marcus on the precinct phone and breathing heavily until he hangs up-"

"-I KNEW that was you!"

"And I'll catch that mouse that keeps chewing through your file cabinet. BUT if I win, then you have to say something heartfelt and meaningful to every detective in this precinct!"

"No telling anyone about the bet. That prat Charles would just try to help you."

"If you don't tell them I kissed Doug Judy"

"Until I win"

"I'm not concerned"

Rosa hesitated, still vaguely angry. "I am not fond of that mouse. Fine by me. But what about Holt and Terry?"

"Rosa you insult me! I don't kiss married men!"  
"Weekend staff?"  
"Ew. Never"

"Gina?"

"Been there, tapped that…well not tapped exactly. Tapped that tongue...She was my first kiss. We were eleven and we just got really caught up in Dawson's Creek."

"I do not need any more backstory. Terms accepted. You have three weeks." She reached to shake his hand, only to have him wrench her forward and mash against her lips. He barely winced as she shoved her foot into his chest.

"One down, four to go. Say hello to kind and compassionate Rosa. A softer, sweeter detective..."  
"Three weeks, Peralta! I hope that mouse has rabies!"

Charles was his first target. The trick here was to make it seem joking and non-weird. Finally, that Friday, Jake saw his target. They were going undercover to track the movements of a ring of jewelry bandits. Jake had the perfect cover.

"Bill Freasegood, that's you, and Adam Schocter. We're a fabulous gay couple recently engaged and arguing a bit over who gets the bigger diamond. You left Anderson Cooper for me, and we're really trying to avoid the paparazzi since the photo of us on the subway went viral in Portugal."

"You have a gift, Jake."

They strolled into the store, and Jake made a show of loudly walking up to the counter and asking the salesman for a selection of 'flashy bling rings for dudes'. As he peered at the tray, he saw a suspect walk in the doors and immediately grabbed Boyle's face and planted a kiss on him until the perp had turned his back" He broke, spun, and drew "NYPD hands in the air!"

Back in the precinct, Charles was still chattering about how 'weird and kind of just…strange, I don't know' the whole thing had been. Jake grinned at Rosa over the top of the shorter man's head.

Two down.

Sully and Hitchcock were almost too easy. Jake simply walked up to Sully one day at the water cooler, drew in a breath, and muttered "kiss me you fool" and winced as Sully's lips met his. Hitchcock, feeling left out, immediate rushed over and planted one on Jake as well.

"Does this mean we're _in_, Jake? I mean, you kiss Charles, you kiss us…Who's next?"

Across the room, Amy Santiago had a funny feeling. She wasn't sure what was going on with Jake, but she had a rough idea of who might be next.

Jake had been picking his spot for a week. This was the only kiss that meant anything. If he was honest, this day was the reason he'd made the bet in the first place. He chose their aliases carefully, (Brock and Leslie Hudson, honeymooning couple from Abilene eager to see the sights, but too wary of the big city to come without their concealed-carry weapons) packed a great stake-out bag, (almonds, shades, matching fanny packs) and chosen their most adrenaline filled case to get her heart pumping. He'd gotten wasted Wednesday night convincing himself she wouldn't push him away and sat up Thursday night planning to transfer to another precinct. He wasn't brave enough to kiss Amy Santiago free and clear of scheme. He'd do it like this, and, if she hated it, it was all just part of a bet.

And there they were. Taking faux selfies across the street from the home of a suspected murderer. He worked a shift at a factory, and returned to his apartment at exactly 4:30 every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. At 4:27, Jake's phone alarm vibrated quietly in his pocket. He had three minutes before the perp arrived. The way he saw it, that gave him just enough time for a hot kiss, and not enough time for Amy to shut him down or make it weird. He would let her simmer while they caught the bandit, and then he would explain about Rosa and Doug Judy and all of it. And maybe Amy would feel something. He glanced around quickly, looking for any holes in the plan. Fifteen seconds to go time…

Amy saw Jake pat his pocket oddly, then quickly glance across the street. Something about the look on his face told her everything she needed to know. She turned her head coyly, and smiled a little as he grabbed her arm. His grip was rougher than she expected, like maybe he was a little nervous. She felt his quick pulse in his fingers as he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around and shoved her to the ground.

And that's when she heard the crack and saw the red blooming through his I 3 NY shirt.

Hot. Sticky. Red. Pulling his body to her, and aiming her gun over his shoulder, his head lolling a little too limply. The squad car, so lucky it was there, lighting up the night around her. Voices swarming across the street. Swarming toward her. The wet pulse as she held her hand, vice-like, against the hole in his body.

Because Jake had set his alarm for a moment too early. He wanted to be sure it was safe, and he'd checked, just a moment, before he kissed her. His hands were already reaching for her as he saw the familiar silhouette across the street. Saw the man next to him make a familiar gesture. Realized…

There was a moment when he wondered. Duck? Run? Shoot? Pursue? Call for help? But as he wondered, he already knew what he would do. Get Amy.

He wasn't totally aware of anything before a week later, when the pain meds cleared enough for the doctor to explain his injury. Something about how he was lucky the bullet had missed his heart, and that the lingering nerve damage would heal in time. The pain in his shoulder was dull as he looked across the room to see the nurse opening the door to admit the rest of the precinct into the cramped room. His eyes met Amy's.

There would be time to explain the bet to Amy. There would be time for her to fuss over his injury and apologize for missing the signs of a sting. There would be time for her to awkwardly say she'd been distracted, and time for him to admit that he'd been a little out of it as well. There would be time for Amy. He saw that now. He understood how much it mattered to him. But, for now, he swung his eyes to Rosa.

"Does this mean I lost the bet?"

She laughed. "You've got a day left, Peralta. Who knows?"


	3. The kiss

"Jake, I'm so sorry"

"Amy, there was nothing you could have done!"

"Jake, I should have seen something was off"

"Amy, It was subtle. There was nothing too see"

"Jake, I should helped you or pulled you down or something"

"Amy. AMY. First of all, quit starting every sentence with my name. Second of all, _thank you_ for keeping the wound closed and shooting the bad guy. You did exactly the right thing." Jake's voice was almost light, but his brain was racing with trying to remember anything from the moment after he had covered Amy's body with his own. He imagined it hadn't been very romantic to have his unconscious, bleeding torso draped over her. And, now that he was okay, it seemed like a real problem that Amy was associating that closeness with what was probably the most traumatic moment of her life.

Amy, on the other hand, could think of little else but those few minutes. She'd been reaching to pull his face close when the bullet had sent a spasm through his body. She could hear the choking noises from his throat so clearly that she wanted to hear him talk, just to be sure it was all okay. She'd distracted him, he'd distracted her. They couldn't be partners if they were going to run around with eyes for each other.

You miss a lot that way.

Had she wanted him to kiss her? Had he wanted to? Did she still? Did he? Or was he going to have some Pavlovian response to touching her now, fearing that any closeness would send him skittering off to the edge of consciousness? She tried to look him in the eye, but the gauze across his bared chest was beginning to stain red again, and she wondered if she should call the nurse back in and rejoin the Captain and Terry outside. She remembered the way he'd laid there after the surgery with the respirator taking the breaths for him. She'd come in every day, just for a moment, hoping to see his chest rise and fall naturally, the way it did now. She hadn't known if he would ever be the same. They'd said he might have nerve damage. His fingers curled unnaturally on the bed, but now the PT was saying it would heal with time.

She laughed. Jake hated waiting.

She was suddenly aware that she'd been looking way too long, and he was staring at her with the same curiosity.

"So…was there something you needed?" He let a goofy grin cross his face. It was weirdly vulnerable, especially with his hair matted and curling out of control.

"What?"

"I mean, you don't come in here for a _week_, and then suddenly you shove everybody out of the room and start the Amy Santiago Apology Tour?"

"Jake, it wasn't that…"

"Do you have any idea how many times I've had to listen to Boyle talk to me about his lunch? I can't even move, Santiago. I'm chained to this bed by my drug supply, and it is _not_ as fun as the addicts I've met have led me to believe. But not you, Amy Santiago, you don't have _time _to come see me?"

She didn't say anything about visiting. She'd come when he was sleeping for a reason.

"I felt guilty, Jake. Do you think it's easy to look at you like this?"

"I know, I'm hideous. But I don't buy it. The time you accidentally shot Sully in the foot, you spent the night in the hospital so he wouldn't feel lonely. So dish. Why are you avoiding me?"

Damnit. She did that. "Were you about to kiss me?"

"There it is."

"I made a bet."  
"With Rosa, I know. You said something to her about it this morning"  
"Right. I bet her that I could kiss every detective in the precinct by the end of February or I'd have to go after that scary mouse in her desk."  
"The one that keeps chewing her cords? Cute little brown thing?"  
Jake shuddered.  
"So you decided to get shot, instead."  
"I stand by it."  
"Jake that's not the issue. So you needed to kiss me…for a bet?"  
"Yeah. And I had set a timer on my phone, and it went off, and…"  
"You set a timer to remember to kiss me so you could win a bet with Rosa?"  
"Try to keep up, Santiago."  
But her heart was several feet behind her. She hadn't realized how much she was hoping to have a very different conversation with Jake. But it was a game for him. It was always a game for him. Matter-of-factly, she curled one leg on the edge of the bed, bent over him, and kissed him calmly, eyes open.

"Now we're even"


	4. The claw

Jake's first day back at work was, in a word, distracting.

For one thing, he was dressed as a pirate.

He wore a blousy linen shirt (complete with a thin black tie), tight black pants, and a bandana tied over his head. The outfit was cinched by his newly acquired medal, which he was using as an eye patch. Rosa had forgotten how much _energy_ Jake exuded. It was a little exhausting, having him there laboring over a gritty speech affectation.

"Arggh mateys. What a treat to be seeing you in the brig this marnin'" Jake staggered in, holding a bottle of rum in his good hand. Boyle was instantly at his side.

"Ohmygoodness Jake! I thought you were going to tell me before the next talk like a pirate day! I bought a peg leg and everything!"

"Calm yerself, wee one, this is a different kettle of fish entirely. Today, I am Captain Hook" Jake brandished his left hand, which was curled abnormally into a rigid claw and strangely limp at the wrist. He used a big shoulder movement to flail the hand at Charles in what was obviously supposed to be a menacing gesture.

"Quit it Peralta." Amy was unusually brisk with Jake's mischief, particularly considering that Rosa had seen her holding back a smile a moment ago.

"BRAWWWWK quit it Peralta, BRAWWWWWK, stick in the mud, stick in the mud"

It appeared Jake had brought a stuffed parrot. And it was the parrot, rather than the detective who addressed Amy for the rest of the day. It did everything from ask her to borrow a stapler to asking questions about a case briefing, all while Jake's eyes darted around the room in determined disinterest.

Raising the question of why Jake and Amy weren't getting along. It was actually very simple.

On the last day of February, Jake receive a medal of valor in a ceremony in his room. They'd given him the choice, and he didn't feel like putting on his dress uniform. After, Terry had raided the cafeteria soft serve machine, and the precinct had an impromptu reception. Gina left almost immediately, claiming an allergy to hospital food when, in reality, she just hated seeing Jake injured. She, more than anyone in the office, was affected by the dangerous nature of the job. Holt and Terry stayed a while, but they needed to be at the precinct and drifted out after a half hour or so.

It was then that Jake turned to Rosa. "Diaz I do believe I won a bet recently, and it is time for you to pay up. A-ka-ching."

Rosa, stunned, turned to Amy "You kissed?"

Boyle "Who kissed?"

"Jake and Amy"

"WHAT?"

She looked at Jake now "you did."

"we did."

"yesterday?"

"In this room." She looked from his awkward face to Amy's saddened one. It was clear that the kiss had meant nothing.

"You're an idiot."

"That is not what I was expecting."

"No, you want to hear something heartfelt? You're an idiot. But I'll get back to you." She whirled on Hitchcock and Scully in the corner.

"Hitchcock you try to hard to make Jake like you. Scully is your best friend, and you seem happy. Let it go. And Scully you need to figure out that you don't need to gross people out to make them listen to you."

She turned to Boyle.

"Charles you're a good guy. You're the only person in this precinct that I respect right now."

"Santiago, you care more about getting ahead than being happy. Just be happy."

"Jake, you're an idiot. You try to be funny, but you're sad. And you kissed a woman you don't deserve just to get rid of her before she left you. Not everyone leave you."

And Rosa left the room.

"Amy I didn't…"

"Yes, you did. It's all just a game to you. You won't get close to anyone, and if you do you run away scared. I don't need that."

"Amy I didn't mean for…"

"Save it." And she was gone. Jake, grimacing a little, swung his legs over the bed and walked out as well, leaving Boyle, Hitchcock, and Scully alone in the room.

But he didn't go after her. He didn't go talk to Rosa, either. He went to the lobby and watched Cartoon Network on television until a panicked nurse found him and approved his discharge.

And so it was that Amy and Jake were not speaking. He ate lunch with Gina., who spent the time examining his hand. "I dunno that it looks like a hook as much as it does a talon from like a condor or something. And you're not gonna be able to wear a ring for like...at least a week. I mean maybe that's not really a consideration for you, except that it's gonna make eating a Ring Pop more complicated. I still have one of those for you in my desk, by the way."

But Jake was busy trying to convince Terry that he was ready to get back in the field.

"I can totally handle a gun with this hand. It's much _easier_ than a pen, actually. Or a _keyboard_. Really it's safer if I just stay away from paperwork altogether." He struck a dramatic Charlie's Angels pose against Terry's back.

"Jake, your hand looks like a pipe cleaner project my baby girls would bring home. You're not safe out there right now. You need to take some time and rest up before I can send you out. I made Santiago wait a week, and she wasn't even injured. It changes you, Jake."

"Sarge, I'm fine. And just think of all the hand related disguises I could put together"

"Peralta. _No._" Captain Holt's voice left little room for negotiation. "Sgt. Jeffords is quite right to keep you close to home for a while."

"But Captain, I'm ready no-"

"-On the contrary. In my office. Now."

Amy saw Jake disappear, and he came back looking like he'd been hit in the head, his bandana balled up in his fist. Angry, he walked over to his desk and slammed the parrot, eyepatch, and telescope down next to his keyboard. He sat, aggravated, and reached for his coffee mug with his left hand. The drink sloshed dangerously, then spilled all over his chest. It clanged as it fell to the floor, and he swore under his breath.

Amy laughed. She couldn't help it. He was dressed like a sad, disheveled pirate with an oozing bandage and a twisted hand. He had somehow managed to look like a small child and a tired adult all at once.

He turned and looked at her and she stopped laughing. She had rarely seen him without a joke in his eye, but he was looking at her without a single layer of goofiness.

"What did Holt say to you?"

He said nothing, just looked. There was no smile, and his arms looked heavy as they hung at his sides. His face was sleepy and there was red in his eyes. He looked at her another few seconds, then sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

Her eyes were lighter around the middle. She wasn't smiling, but there was laughter around her eyes still. She rolled her head to the left to meet his gaze, and it sat crookedly on her neck. She lifted just that shoulder and questioned him with her eyebrows. He didn't say anything for a moment, then reached to put his good arm on her shoulder and muttered "I am so sorry" and hung his head. She was aware of everything: the smell of the coffee on his shirt, the clench of his hand on her shoulder, and the tightness of his abdomen as he tried to control his breathing. He was staring at her from his couple inches of spare height. She addressed his sternum.

"for…Is this about the bet?"

"For pretending this" he gestured between their noses "was about a bet".

He didn't kiss her. He looked at her for another moment, then walked away.

Serious Jake didn't stick around. By the end of the day, he had relaxed back into a smile and was writing a theme song about 'jake the claw' under his breath. It was true, she didn't want him to joke about their relationship, but she didn't want him to be weird and sad, either. She wanted him to be Jake.

"Is is funny to make fun of your injury yet?"

"Man, lemme know because I have been trying all day to extremely limited success."

"I guess I'll have to stick to the fact that you kissed Doug Judy"

"I was hoping she wouldn't tell you that part."

"I knew you liked him more than me."

He wasn't quick about it. His left arm barely worked, and he had to hook it awkwardly around her hips to pull her toward him. He right hand cradled her head and he looked her in the eyes as he brushed her lips, barely. She reached up and pulled his head down. His mouth had never been fully closed, and his tongue touched hers lightly and retreated. He felt her laugh before he felt her breath.

Jake kissed primarily with his jaw. It bumped softly against hers, and his left hand curled awkwardly under her shoulder blade. She paused and tried to decide what it felt like. He kissed her deeply for another second, and pulled his face away to meet her eyes.

He could taste her chapstick, still. He laughed silently but so hard it shook his whole body then kissed her once more, quick and matter of fact.

"I was going to kiss you. I'd been waiting to kiss you. I almost never don't want to kiss you."

"You were better at it than advertised."

"I hate Rosa"


	5. Mostly about Amy

AN: this story keeps rising from the dead. It's whatever...

Jake pulled away from Amy, holding her hands. He jumped once and went to pull her out of the room with him, but slipped and used his left hand. Her hand slipped out of his, and he pawed her a bit and spun her, reaching for her other hand when she stopped him.

"Jake" She was laughing. "Where ya going, buddy?"

"I dunno, I dunno we just…is this real? I feel like we need dinner for this to be real. Are you a seafood person? Do you even want this to be real?"

"I want this to be real. But Peralta…" She was twisting his fingers in hers.

"Is this about my breath? I swear, I have some tic tacs somewhere"

"No. Jake. I have work to do. I have like four cases I need to file before comp stats, and then I still have that burglary the DA has been dogging me about and I just…"

"Need to work" He relaxed. "Gotcha. I am invisible."

"Jake"

"invisible"

"Jake"

"How are you still talking to me? I have vanished."

"Jake." She made him meet her eyes. "I want this to be real."

She turned away before she could see him, mouth wide open, gaping excitedly at Charles. This was going to be interesting.

True to his word, Jake did not bother Amy for the rest of the day. He kissed her at 4:47, and by 4:52, he was bored. The prospect of pushing paper until his hand worked was boring. He drummed his pencil on the desk for a bit, and then found himself turning small circles in front of Gina's desk.

"Easy kiddo, what's got you all wound up?"

"Gina did you not just see me alienate and then dramatically make out with the woman I've been obsessing over for like a year?"

"Wait, Sophia was here?"

"Okay, Gina, _obviously_ I mean Amy."

"Jake, I've had a lot of stuff going on…" She looked down at her desk, where there were a collection of gum wrappers folded into an elaborate origami wolf's head.

"I see that."

"So can we stop with the bouncy bounce?" He was jumping up and down while feigning elaborate karate kicks in front of her desk.

"Sorry. I just have so much adrenaline and so much paperwork"

"Hmm. Too bad your arm doesn't hurt, because then Holt would definitely let you go home for the day."

"I know." He was huffing "but I feel-"

She removed one ankle-length boot and tossed it at his chest.

"AHHG!" He bent crookedly, gasping in pain.

"I'll tell him you'll be in later."

"Right"

Back at his apartment, Jake was finally busy. He spread the contents of the file he'd pulled on his way out across the table and stared at the contents as he swallowed his daily dose of pain meds. He was still poring over it when he fell asleep a few hours later.

Briefings the next morning were running long when Peralta sauntered forward, clutching a stack of papers. Terry looked tired.  
"Peralta. What could you _possibly_ have to brief us on? I can see the paperwork you didn't do yesterday on your desk."  
"Ah, but that was _boring_ paperwork. This case is much more exciting." He paused dramatically. "We have all been lied to by one of our own." At this, Scully looked oddly nervous.

"Peralta, I told you I am _not_ the voice on Moviephone" Captain Holt had explained this more than once before.

"I'm still not convinced of that, but No, I'm speaking of a different deception this time. One that hits much more closely to my own heart. Someone I have shared my tongue with"

Rosa made a face "Okay, gross"

"Amy Santiago. You thought you could hide it, but you'll have to wake up earlier than that to fool Jake Peralta." He paused, savoring their confused reactions. "Sunday is your birthday."

Gina gasped reflexively, then caught herself "Wait, do we care about that?"

"Of course we care! I pulled Amy's personnel files to try to figure out how to trick her into liking me more, and I found out that she has _never_ let me throw a Patented Peralta Pinata Party for her"

The squad was, for the most part, looking sympathetic. Charles was indignant. "Oh, Amy, you're really missing out. Jake really goes above board for birthdays. It's like rave party magic."

Captain Holt was less enthusiastic. "Yes. On my last birthday, Peralta brought in a commemorative piñata stuffed with Skittles, which I then had to eat to be polite. They were repulsive."

"Permission to take the last week of my injury leave to plan a pimpin' party for Amy?" he held up one finger appeasingly "bearing in mind that this will keep me from distracting her while she's busy carrying the legwork left from my caseload?"

"Granted."

"Hollllllerrrrrrrrr."

It had been lonely without Jake. Amy was used to his noises and fidgets next to her, and she found herself missing the spark of agitation or inspiration that he often gave her to push a case closed. Since they had kissed, however, she was finding that she missed his distraction even more than usual. She caught herself texting him, just to fill the space in her brain. He'd spent the first day of his leave trying to figure out what she wanted to do for her birthday.

Amy: It's my first day off in a month, Jake. I just want a Sunday where I don't have to do _anything. _

Jake: You know you punctuate your texts perfectly? It's adorable.

Amy: It's encouraging that you find OCD adorable.

Jake: What are you wearing right now? I bet it's ironed.

Amy: Jake…

Jake: Right. So. Lazy Sunday? I can do lazy. No cooking, no bad guys, no ironing?

Jake: I mean unless you want ironing?

Jake: No. No ironing.

Amy: No. Just a lazy Sunday sounds perfect. And I wouldn't mind seeing you.

Jake: AHA! So you do miss me!

Amy: I miss you distracting Boyle. He is driving me crazy

Jake: Did he say hi? I feel like he's trying to say hi

Amy: desperately

Amy: but yes

Jake: ?

Amy: I miss you

Jake: there it is

Amy: Sorry I've been so busy. I wasn't planning on working a date into my schedule this week.

Jake: Amy, you don't need to plan anything. I happen to be an excellent planner

Amy: Jake you frequently forget to cash your paychecks

Jake: But I'm great at birthdays, Amy! Don't you remember the Jersey Shore thing I threw for Gina? Snooki was almost there

Amy: That doesn't make me feel better

Jake: don't stress. I will see you on Sunday. I'm making reservations as we speak.

Amy: I said lazy!

Jake: Chill, boo. At waffle house. I'd cook for you, but that would end up involving Charles…

Amy: no Charles. No boo. And do they take reservations at Waffle House?

Jake: Frequent customer.

So she'd been in touch. It wasn't like he was gone, but it was also hard to pinpoint what they were doing with him out of the office. On Wednesday, she'd made the mistake of telling him that she'd never had a birthday party, and he'd been almost too sympathetic. It was impossible to tell whether or not he thought she was a loser.

Jake was the kind of guy who got surprise parties. He was the kind of guy people laughed with. He was so open that he was easy to surprise, there was almost no enigma. He was subtle like a plastic blend bar mitzvah dress and cargo shorts with a tux. She could picture him as a five year old, zooming around with Gina at a Batman birthday party and corralling his friends into catching invisible bad guys. He was still almost a child, and he still trusted that things like birthdays were exciting. He still trusted people to be excited for him.

Amy wasn't that way. She'd been a girl among boys, and she'd never had a princess party or a dance recital. Instead, her dad had taught her to wire a fusebox by age twelve, and her brothers had made fun of her when she painted her fingernails with glitter polish. Her childhood had been about trying to stand out while simultaneously trying to blend in. She had to measure up to everyone else in the house, which meant never indulging things like sugar or party hats. Jake couldn't know that about her, she'd never talked about home with him. She wondered if she'd even be able to feign enthusiasm for whatever weird thing he dreamt up. And if Snooki was there, she was going to have an aneurysm.

It was one thing to say he found OCD adorable. It was another thing for an antic like Jake to bounce around her for very long without deflating. And the last thing she wanted was to hurt Jake.

She'd done plenty of that, lately.

But, somehow, she wanted that with him. She wanted him to teach her how to be the child she never was. She'd skipped fourth grade and, until he'd said something about it, it had never occurred to her that maybe she'd missed something along the way.

Amy Santiago liked to play herself off as bulletproof, but the truth was that dating Jake Peralta left her exposed. It was wild and wonderful and it made her feel like she was flying, but she needed him to give her time to adjust to his happy-go-lucky lifestyle.

She missed that. She missed him. She looked at her watch.

Sunday was a long way from now. Before she totally knew what she was doing, she had gathered her things and headed out for a late lunch. She had a pretty good guess about where to find Jake.


	6. Flashbacks

He was leaning on the counter of the newly refurbished Sal's Pizza and trying to convince Sal to make a special pizza for Amy's birthday and deliver it to a picnic table in Central Park. Any way you sliced it, Sal owed him a favor, but he'd sort of already cashed in that favor on a lifetime lunch discount. Still, though, he didn't see why Sal couldn't pull a few strings for someone who literally bought lunch for him every day. He heard a voice behind him, and pretended not to notice.

"Do you ever cook, Peralta?"

She said over his shoulder, and he grinned as he spun around. "NYPD HANDS IN THE AIR"

She looked stunned, then amused, then quickly reproving. "Right, Jake. You bet" She raised her hands at the elbows sarcastically. "What are you doing here?"

He leaned his elbows back on the counter and surveyed her appraisingly. She smelled like Head and Shoulders.

_They'd pulled him off of the ventilator on Tuesday, he'd heard. But what he remembered was waking up with a nurse shining a flashlight in his eyes. The door was closing, but he couldn't see anything but the yellow beam. The air smelled familiar, but the nurse smelled strangely spicy. He couldn't see, and his ears were ringing, but something around him was reminding him of something and he just couldn't…_

_The nurse started to explain his injury. He'd had a collapsed lung and a damaged artery. He'd lost a ton of blood, and his brain wasn't getting enough oxygen. He'd starting seizing and they'd put him in a medically induced coma to keep him from getting more brain damage. They'd fixed his lung. He had nerve damage in his arm. He was probably going to be fine. He shouldn't think about it too much. He shouldn't fixate on the accident. _

_Somehow the accident and the hospital room both smelled the same._

"Santiago, I come here literally every day. The better question is why _you're _here spying on my plans and missing out on your stalker lunch with Captain Holt in the breakroom. And the answer is…"

"Hunger"

"Affection"

"Boredom?"

"Curiosity"

"Casework"

"Birthday party enthusiasm."

"Well it's not that. I told you, Jake, I just want a lazy day at home. I've been working a lot and I'm exhausted"

_Holt hadn't wanted her to work that week. He thought she needed time to decompress, feel safe again, and maybe go see Jake. He hadn't realized that Jake was in a coma, laying too still in a room and breathing with a machine. He hadn't realized that Amy didn't feel safe just sitting at home with no control over anything. So she took mountains of paperwork home. She told him she was going to the hospital, sat next to him in the room to make sure he was still there and asleep, and then went to the waiting room and did more work on the couch and tried not to think about how strange it looked to see him be still. She'd worked overtime every night after Holt had let her come back, still avoiding Jake. She'd covered shifts so they could visit him. And she'd stayed awake at night, trying not to think about the way he'd looked laying on the street._

He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. His voice was lower than she was used to, and she could smell his no-tears shampoo. "are you inviting me up to your apartment?" He grinned slightly, obviously baiting her to get a prudish reaction. She decided not to take the bait.

Instead, she grabbed the belt loops on either side of his jeans and pulled his hips to her before kissing him, slow and serious. Summoning Rosa with all her might, she fought to do something sexy with her hands in his hair and tried not to look awkward as she retorted "I said lazy, Jake."

He turned his head and coughed loudly, leaned back and looked bashful. There was a little bit of lip gloss on the corner of his mouth. She folded her arms and tried to look serious, but she was smirking a little.

"Okay. Yeah, well that escalated quickly. Okay." His face was red.

"You're uncomfortable with PDA!"

"I'm not! I would have bet a lot of money that you were, but it's not like…"

_He waited for her to come visit him, so that he could apologize. He didn't want her to feel like it was her fault. He didn't want her to worry. He wanted to make sure she was okay, because he remembered a gun pointing at her back. He mostly just wanted to talk to her. He asked the nurse, just once, if she'd come in while he was on the ventilator, but she hadn't known. He'd blushed, embarrassed at showing her that it mattered to him. He needed her there more than he could admit. It was scary, how much he wanted her to be there._

"Jake I haven't seen you this red, ever. Not even when you got pantsed by the vandal outside the strip club"

"It's…hot in here. Because of the ovens"

"Mmhmm"

"Yeah"

"Okay"

"I believe you."

"Is there some reason that you came here?" He glanced behind him to see if Sal was still watching. "Other than the stealing of my innocence?"

"There is, actually." She walked over to a booth and sat down. " I just found out that I'm going upstate for a few days to investigate that arson guy we were looking for last month"

"You're going to sting the firecracker? I thought I was going on that with you!"

"Jake, make a gun with your left hand"

He tried for a solid minute before changing the subject.

"So when do you get back?"

"Saturday night."

"Ah"

"Yeah."

"No, it's good. That gives me plenty of time to plan your party, name all the beetles in my sock drawer, spend an hour in a doctor's waiting room, and count the pigeons that fly by my window"

"Good to see you staying busy"

"Maybe I'll come into the precinct tomorrow after all."

"You could process some perps for me."

"Well I'm not gonna do that."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. It's part of the job. I just wish I could get back out there. It's been three weeks, and I'm losing my reflexes. A third grader beat my high score on the arcade machine today."

"Maybe you've been distracted." She was fishing.

"Well, I did get shot" He wasn't biting. He sat down across from her and raised his eyebrows.

She just looked at him.

_The cops across the street were pursuing the shooter. She had to get him on the ground, she had to figure out a way to get the blood to stop. It was on her hand, on his face, all down her torso. It was dark. He was heavy. She swung him around and tried to lay him down, but his head cracked against the pavement. She straddled his chest and tried to keep from putting her weight on him._

_He was still choking, like he couldn't breathe. She didn't know what to do, her hand was still pressing over the wound in his shoulder. She felt someone coming up behind her and shouted at them to call someone, feeling her voice crack. He seemed to pull suddenly into consciousness._

_"__Amy I-" his voice was impossibly raspy and breathless. He gulped air "-so sorry". _

_And his eyes slid to the sides. His whole body was jerking. The paramedics were behind her, and they were asking her a thousand questions. His name, what happened, did he hit his head…She didn't know what to say, just kept repeating Jake Peralta over and over. He was still jerking, but his left arm had gone slack. _

"Amy-I know. You're right. It's not funny at all. It's terrifying. I hate that I let something steal my focus on the job. I hate that I put both of us in danger. I hate that I tried to make my feelings for you about a bet. I hate all of it. But I'm getting better. I'm going to get better. Who knows, maybe I just needed a wakeup call. I thought I might lose you. Twice. And I'm not going to make either of those mistakes again."

_He let her think that the kiss was about the bet. He let her leave the room that day after she kissed him, because he was scared. She took it easier than he hoped. He cared more than he liked. He didn't know how to play it. He didn't know how to let her go. There was no Teddy, no Sophia to blame the distance on. If he was going to just be her friend, it would always be because he didn't kiss her, didn't tell her, didn't ask her. Or because she didn't ask him. He knew what he'd do. He'd show up with a childish joke and remind her that she was too good for him. He'd pretend not to care. And then maybe it wouldn't matter that she didn't care, either. _

"Jake, I didn't mean to…You know you can talk to me. Like, really talk to me."

"I know."

"But right now, I've gotta go"

"You've been here four minutes"

"Holt thinks I'm in the bathroom"

"Awww…shucks. That's the nicest nickname you've ever given me"

Jake was smiling, but he was also breathing hard and sweating a little. He turned back to chat with Sal, who was looking curiously at him.  
"Jakey"

"hmm?"

"You know I love you like a stepson"

"Aw"

"And I'm glad you're okay"

He shrugged his shoulder and let it flop down and swing his bad arm dramatically.

"But go back to work. You've been here every afternoon this week."

"Right"

The precinct. The precinct. Headed back to the precinct. He didn't want to admit it, but he was kind of nervous. He hadn't felt like a cop since sometime before he'd taken a girl out on a case to make out with her. It'd been weird since then, between the hospital and the constant distraction that was Amy. But the precinct without her was a cop job. And no matter how long he joked and acted restless, he was starting to understand that this wasn't easy.

_On Monday, Captain Holt had called him into his office._

_Peralta I wanted to talk to you about the incident._

_Sir?_

_You were shot in the line of duty protecting a friend. You were severely injured. And today you're in my precinct wearing a child's costume and talking about some bet. _

_Sir it wasn't-_

_Peralta I don't care about any bet. I care about the way you're handling this. You see I, too, used to be a brash young detective. I was knifed in a streetfight, leaving my face bandaged. I thought, for a while, that if I pretended it wasn't a problem, then it wouldn't be. I was so focused on forgetting about the whole incident that I lost focus on everything else. I alienated my coworkers, who were concerned for my safety. I was completely useless until a magazine reporter interviewed me about the incident. I hid my true feelings about it from him using easy jokes, but he soon discovered that my situation was far from humorous. I was a cop afraid of his own job. He helped me learn to take things more seriously, and with more focus. He demanded that I be honest about the motivations behind my scams and games. And that man, was_

_KEVIN! Totally Kevin._

_Peralta_

_Sorry_

_What you're not hearing me tell you is that you are not in the headspace to be a detective right now. And I cannot trust you with a caseload again until you find an outlet for your feelings other than yukking it up with your buddies. Is that clear?_

_Sir….yes sir. But I'm not scared of getting shot again. _

_Just go, Peralta._

From there, Jake had apologized to and then kissed Amy. He'd spent three days texting her and focusing his nearly manic energy on figuring out how to be in a relationship where he cared fiercely about the other person. He was starting to understand that she had the potential to hurt him. He had also decided that it was worth it. And he felt better. He felt better knowing that, for once, he'd just said the thing he wanted to say instead of telling a joke about it. He felt better knowing that he could talk to Amy. He felt just better enough to go beg Captain Holt to take him off administrative leave.


	7. Blizzard Man

AN: the real last chapter. Because SNL digital shorts were a crucial part of my upbringing

"Okay, Peralta"

"But sir-Hold on. Wait. Excellent. Are you sure?"

"Yes. Detective Santiago personally recommended that I reinstate you. I take it you took my advice"

"Father knows best, sir."

"That's humorous, detective. But I want to get back to the matter at hand. Now I obviously can't send you on any work that requires a certain level of physical skill"

"Because of the claw, yes I know"

"But I did just receive a briefing for which I feel you may be…uniquely qualified. It seems that an up and coming rapper, a Mr. Iced Tea, has recently become suspicious that a member of his staff may be laundering money through his accounts. He'd like an undercover agent to pose as a fellow artist, survey the situation, and report back.

"Oh my god. This is my moment."

"You do seem, as I said before, uniquely qualified. He is preparing his staff for a visit from "blizzard man", which is the alias he has chosen for you, and he is expecting you to meet him this evening at a local club. I suggest you spend the rest of the day preparing a disguise. And Peralta?"

"Sir?"

"Take care."

Jake rummaged through bins at his favorite thrift store until he found an acceptable outfit featuring a mustard yellow jacket and big-rimmed shades. He mean mugged the mirror once, then realized that he needed to do one last thing before resuming his police career.

He needed to call Amy.

"Jake! Thank God, I've been _so _bored."

"Santiago! Hello. First off, thanks for telling Holt I was ready to go back out in the field. Secondly…Guess who's dressed as a rapper right now?"

"Are you at the thrift store, Jake?"

"Possibly. Listen, I've got this great assignment as an undercover rap mogul with ICE-T! And I'm really excited about it, but I just…felt like I should tell you…I don't know, is that weird? I just don't know that I'll be able to call you that often."

"Jake that's…wow. Cool. Is this one of those guys that you listen to in the parking lot after late shifts?"

"It is not."

"Well. Still cool. But you be safe, okay?"

"I will be. I'll see you on Sunday at eight, okay?"

"At Waffle House?"

"LAZY SUNDAY! You just wait, it's gonna be the best birthday of your life!"

For the next three days, Jake ran around the city with the young rapper, analyzing every member of his team. On Saturday night, he met with ICE-T to discuss the situation.

"Listen, Blizzard man, can you give me one more day of scoping? My main guy I'm worried about hasn't been around much, but we're having a _huge_ party tomorrow, and I know he's gonna be there."

"Well, Mr. T, check my style out. it's not that I don't love spending time with you, but actually I'm pretty busy tomorrow and I-"

"Bliz, man, you gotta get down for tomorrow. I'm tryin' to help you nail this guy."

"And I appreciate that, but I really don't know that tomorrow will do that much more, as I've already seen _many_ of your friends making what seem, even to me, like poor financial decisions and possibly illegal ones, but I'll have to consult with someone who…you know, knows about money. And tomorrow is my…well she's not my _girlfriend, _but…"

It was at that point that his phone buzzed with a text from Amy.

"Hey man, can I reply to this real quick?"

Amy: Jake you're going to hate me, but I can't possibly leave here until noon tomorrow.

Jake: Well your timing is good

Amy:?

Jake: Looks like I will be working also. At least give me dinner?

Amy: Yes, please

Jake: Gotcha. Reservation is at seven. Dress is super caz. Meet me at the precinct and we'll go from there.

Amy: Where are you taking me that takes reservations and is 'super caz'

Jake: Literally everywhere I go

Amy: stay safe

Jake: quit it. Busy.

He looked back up at his companion. "I'm free tomorrow until about six. That okay?"

"We can make it work."

Amy had been receiving a series of funny texts from Jake. It appeared that this job consisted largely of writing rap songs and pretending to be drunk. He wasn't allowed to drink on duty, and he was definitely erring on the side of caution lately. The result was a string of nights of confusion and trying to figure out what he looked like when he'd been drinking.

Jake: When I'm drunk do I dance more or sing? Possibly in a high girl voice? That feels right

Jake: Do you think sober Jake likes Kanye as much as drunk Jake

Jake: He does not

Jake: Tonic water is really kind of gross without gin in it.

Jake: Also two AM is super late

Jake: Quick, what rhymes with blizzard?

Jake: Is embezzle or invest the bad one? I'm never sure.

Jake: Quick, what rhymes with embezzle?

Jake: I haven't hit on a girl all week. They seem to think that Blizzard Man is gay now. I think you should feel good about that, but maybe also weird. Mostly good.

Jake: MIDNIGHT! BIRTHDAY! I JUST TOOK A SHOT OF LIME JUICE AND SELTZER IN YOUR HONOR!

He'd texted her every hour since, reminding her about her day. She was pretty sure he was going to some kind of boathouse thing today. He'd been trying to think of new rhymes for yacht all day. So far, he seemed to be mostly just pointing out that he was on a boat. He sent her a selfie of himself at a captain's wheel dressed as a hellish Vanilla Ice. The fact that this loser was the same guy who took a bullet for her and who spent a week planning a birthday party made her feel strangely safe.

He was a dork, and so was she. He loved his job, and he was never too cool to lay it all out for a character. He was the one man in the world who would understand when she missed a date to close a case. She just wished that it hadn't been so weird this week.

She got home, showered, and changed into old jeans and a zip up hoodie, which seemed like it might match whatever Jake was wearing. She tried to watch some TV, but it felt weird. So, birthday or no birthday, she headed back to the precinct around five to do some work while she waited for Jake.

At five, she didn't have another birthday text.

At six, Charles showed up looking flustered and began to type something, muttering to himself.

At seven, she still hadn't heard a word, and she was a little concerned.

At seven thirty, her phone was ringing.

"Jake! When are you-"

"AMY! AMY CAN YOU HEAR ME? SORRY, I'M ON A BOAT"

"What are you doing on a boat, Peralta?"

"WELL" she heard the sound of a door slamming, and his voice quieted "not too much, actually. Lots of glamorous, movie star stuff and I think T-Pain is here somewhere and-DAMNIT no that's Justin Timberlake. Anyway I'm gonna be here a couple more hours. It turns out this boat LEAVES the dock"

"Jake, have you ever actually been on a boat?"

"I DON'T KNOW IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, AMY, BUT I'M ON A BOAT RIGHT NOW. AMY-I'M ON A BOAT."

His voice was so loud that Boyle heard him across the room and darted over.

"Amy, is that Jake? He's on a boat? Oh, I wish I was on a boat. I never get to…" He trailed off at the look on Amy's face and went back to the computer.

"WAS THAT CHARLES? TELL HIM-"

"-Jake I can _hear_ you." She went into the interrogation room, mostly to avoid Charles. She was a little afraid she might cry.

"Oh. Okay. Listen Amy" his voice deepened seriously "I am so sorry. I had no choice, I was talking to ICE when a dealer across the club pulled a gun, I think it was that kid from the Chronic-"

"WHAT?"

"-cles of Narnia, the one with the bad attitude who was never in anything else? I think it was him, but anyway ICE bolted, said he didn't feel safe, and so he took the whole party to this boat, and there wasn't time to slip out"

"WHAT?"

"Right. I know you told me not to do anything stupid but I don't mean to, Amy. It seeks me out. Like a missile."

"Jake you need to get off of that boat. You don't know what kind of stuff those guys could get into and…"

"Calm down, Amy, it's super chill. I think Timberlake's flipping some burgers or something. I'll get back as soon as I can, but I'm not going to make it in time for our reservations. I'm extra bummed, because I got you the best gift in honor of Lazy Sunday."

"Jake, you didn't have to-"  
"No, Amy, I wanted to. And I know you would have loved it. But it won't be the same if I'm not there…"

"Jake I'm worried about you."

"Amy I'm fine. I'm safe. I'm wishing I was there with you. I hate that I can't see your face, but just go home, okay? I don't want you spending your whole day in the precinct with Charles. I'll try to come by later if I can" He was climbing stairs, and breathing heavily enough that it made her laugh. She heard the music get louder "SORRY BEYONCE, I HAVE TO GO NOW. TELL JAY I SAY WASSUP!" and he was gone.

She looked at her watch. It would have meant more to her if Jake had managed to call before the reservation. Maybe the two of them weren't ever going to be on the same page.

She went back to her desk, and her keys were missing. Charles was just leaving. She swore. This was some birthday…He agreed to give her a ride. She buzzed the super, who seemed profoundly unconcerned as he unlocked her door for her. She still hadn't heard from Jake again, but she decided that she wasn't letting him come over now.

And to think, she'd spent all week missing him.

The lights were off in the entryway, and the switch didn't seem to be working. Bulb burned out, she guessed. As if on a signal, every light in the place came on at once. There was a lone figure standing across the threshold to the kitchen.

Jake Peralta was there. He was wearing a disheveled jacket and party shades pushed up on his forehead. She tried to meet his eyes, but he was looking at the ceiling, a nervous smirk on his face. He was holding a sparkly card with a unicorn on it that said "happy birthday!" he'd scratched out the happy and replaced it with "kinda lame".

She turned and ran to him. He spread his arms out resignedly, as if to say "I'm sorry but what can you do." She surprised herself by barreling into them and pressing her cheek into his chest. His arms wrapped around her, surprisingly forceful, and he held her until she tilted her head back to look up at him.

"I can't believe you left ICE-T for me."

"Well I did ruin your birthday."

She stepped back and looked around. The room had pink balloons and streamers everywhere, and a unicorn piñata dangled from the ceiling. There was a princess cupcake castle on the table behind him, and a circle of cardboard party hats surrounded it. The room was a five year old's dream.

"You didn't just do all this."

"I did it last night. I was planning on bringing you here all along. But then I got caught up in everything and I saw I wasn't going to make it on time, so I called Charles and had him keep you here as long as he could, hoping that I'd get a chance to make a break for it. When ICE moved the party to the yacht, I told him I was on the list for a hot party down in Brooklyn, and that I'd catch him on the flip. I got here as fast as I could, and then I just faked the phone call and…"

"Blammo" She was smiling.

"Yep". He looked almost shy. "You told me you never got to have a girly birthday party or anything like that, so I wanted to make this really special for you. And I ruined most of it but…"

"Jake. Quit it. This was great. You're a good boyfriend."

He was taken aback. "I'm a terrible boyfriend. I didn't even know I was actually your boyfriend until literally right now. Also I work too much. And I throw birthday parties with Silly String. Teddy would have taken you to a fancy dinner. I got you pizza."

"Jake, I work too much. I panic every time something goes even a little out of plan. I almost never laugh unless I'm with you, and I haven't had a weekend completely off since September. You remind me that it's okay to have fun, but also that it's okay to be great at what you do."

"Well, you remind me to wear socks with my sneakers and to eat green things on occasion."

"That's why I think we should steer into this one. We're kind of sad by ourselves. Together, we're just…"

"Yeah." He was grinning so hugely that it twisted his face. "You really mean it?"

"I mean it. Can you stay?"

"You mean like how late? I have to be in around six tomorrow to talk with Terry"

"It takes ten minutes to get there from here. So you'll need to remember that in the morning."

"_Santiago. _This is a child's birthday party"

She kissed him. He didn't see it coming, and he fell backward onto the cupcake table, smashing the closest cake and pulling her down over him.

"Oh no, we ruined it"

"It's okay. Baker's dozen."

"Fancy. Also I really want to hit that piñata in a little bit"

"I've been wondering what would happen if we tazed it"

"Peralta, you're a genius"

In that moment, Jake Peralta was completely happy. She leaned briefly against his chest scar, and it didn't hurt, for once. It was just a gentle pressure, reminding him that she was there. She saw him notice, and quickly pulled back to move away.

He pulled her face back to his and kissed her, pulling her body close. "No time, Santiago. I've gotta be somewhere in ten hours."

"So much for Lazy Sunday."


End file.
